


jukebox tunes

by statsvitenskap



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Alternate Universe - Retail, Christmas, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Gen, ITS A WAFFLE HOUSE AU BABEY, M/M, Singing, Song: I Think We're Alone Now (Tiffany), except not really, i'm surprised no one's used that tag before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21982045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statsvitenskap/pseuds/statsvitenskap
Summary: “Welcome to Waffle House!” A cheery voice rang out as it always did when you entered a Waffle House. Kevin’s first thought washow in hell can someone be so cheery at one in the morning?Kevin’s second thought was incomprehensible bisexual panic- in other words, his brain’s equivalent of an all-caps keysmash.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79





	jukebox tunes

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be posted on christmas eve, but then i didn't. it also hasn't been beta-ed and i rushed the editing, so forgive any spelling/grammar errors. i wrote most of this in a car on my way home from alabama. also this is my first time ever writing for bom, so let me know if anyone seems ooc- i take (and appreciate) constructive criticism! 
> 
> if you wanna scream about these guys together, hmu at statsvitenskap on tumblr! im kinda shy, but shoot me a couple asks and i'm happy to talk!!

It was one a.m. on Christmas Eve, and Kevin Price was parked in front of a Waffle House, his taste buds aching for the bittersweet burn of black coffee. 

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out of his shitty Honda into the parking lot. A drunk Arnold and Naba were obviously making out in the backseat, judging by the thumps against the window, and suddenly he was thanking Heavenly Father that his windows were tinted. There were only so many times a tired med student could watch his english major best friend and that best friend's girlfriend make out in various public places within his line of sight before he got sick of it. He supposed it was odd for him to thank Heavenly Father, since he didn't exactly believe in the guy anymore, but desperate times truly called for desperate measures. Anyways, who else was he supposed to thank? His dad? 

Kevin shuddered. Maybe he would have done so once upon a time, but even  _ thinking  _ about his father,  _ his family _ , was too much, especially on Christmas Eve. He walked over to the door of the restaurant, his hand moving to hover over the handle. He let his mind wander for a moment. What might they be doing right now, back in Utah? After coming out as bi and telling his parents that Kevin Price, their perfect Mormon son, didn't believe in the Church of Latter-Day Saints anymore, he'd been kicked out from their family home with nothing but the clothes on his back, a tote bag of personal items he'd prepared himself with, and sharp phrases that still ached at him over a year afterwards.

Usually at this time of year, he'd have been baking with his mother, singing along to Christmas carols and laughing all the way. Together, him and his family would all sit down at the dinner table, a mouthwatering meal in front of them, and thank Heavenly Father for the wonderful food before digging into the scrumptious dishes. 

This year, however, he was designated driver for his best friend Arnold Cunningham when they went to a college Christmas party hosted by Nabulungi Hatimbi. For the first hour, Kevin was left in peace, though it didn’t last long. It never did. Arnold was plastered within the second hour, Kevin ran out of coffee in the thermos he'd brought by the third, and a wasted Arnold was begging Kevin to go home by the fourth with an equally tipsy Nabulungi giggling in his arms. 

The times like these were when Kevin wondered why Past Kevin had it deemed it necessary to drop two bombshells on his parents at once. Maybe if he hadn’t done that, he could still be at his family’s home on Christmas Eve, not by the door of some Waffle House in Miami.

But then he thought about Arnold and Naba and his professor, Gotswana, and all the laughs and tears they had shared together, and it wasn’t long before his throat was getting choked up. If Kevin had taken his time with his confessions, he wouldn’t be part of such an accepting environment and rather, in one where sarcastic remarks and passive-aggressive kindness would be the norm. He wouldn’t be as happy as he was, certainly. 

“Fuck,” Kevin murmured absentmindedly, one hand still on the handle to the restaurant. He was crying. Kevin scrunched up his face in a frustrated manner, before wiping away the tears and taking a deep breath. He was not going to be some poor Waffle House worker’s story in five years. Absolutely not. He was just going to go inside, ask for a black coffee, take it, and pay. Simple.

As soon as he entered the restaurant, Kevin could see it was not going to be that simple. 

“Welcome to Waffle House!” A cheery voice rang out as it always did when you entered a Waffle House. Kevin’s first thought was  _ how in hell can someone be so cheery at one in the morning?  _ Kevin’s second thought was incomprehensible bisexual panic- in other words, his brain’s equivalent of an all-caps keysmash.

The redhead standing in front of him was beaming brightly, his nose wrinkling up as he smiled. His sky blue eyes  _ sparkled _ . Was that even physically possible? Could eyes sparkle that way? Kevin had never believed in true love, and still he didn’t, but at the very least, he now believed in true lust. He sure as hell was feeling it right now, as he gazed at the man’s freckled face. The specks made little constellations on his face and hands and it was all Kevin could do to keep himself from reaching out and connecting them. The worker couldn’t be much older than him- maybe twenty, twenty-one. 

“Um, hello?” The student looked worried, his beautiful lips _ (oh fuck, oh God) _ pulled into a pout. “Sir? Sir?” He waved a hand in front of Kevin's face, and Kevin’s oblivion shattered. He blinked at the redhead, who, according to the nametag on his chest, was named Connor. Connor breathed a sigh of relief when Kevin looked into his eyes. “Welcome to Waffle House, sir,” he repeated, smiling gratefully. 

“Um, yeah,” Kevin replied blankly. “Sorry, I just... zoned out.”

“Well, it  _ is  _ one in the morning,” Connor said, chuckling softly, and Kevin swallowed, forcing an unknown lump down his throat. “I wouldn’t expect too much out of you. Would you like a Waffle House hat?”

“A... a what?” In his dazed state, Kevin couldn’t seem to understand a word Connor was saying. Maybe he was just tired, maybe it was the lack of coffee, or maybe he was just really fucking tongue-tied. 

“A Waffle House hat,” Connor emphasized, pulling out the paper item from under the counter. Somewhere along the line, Kevin had sat down at a barstool, yet he couldn’t seem to remember when he’d done so. Huh. “I’m obligated to ask you. You don’t have to take it, you look about my age and-“

“I’ll take one,” Kevin said, accepting the hat from Connor’s hand. “I have a friend who loves these.”  _ That _ was true- Arnold loved Waffle House hats with a passion for some reason, but really, Kevin just wanted to talk to Connor more. 

“How old are they?”

“He’s my best friend. We’re in college. English majors,” Kevin scoffed sarcastically, and Connor giggled.

“I guess I can’t say anything,” Connor adjusted his hat, fiddling with the hem. “My best friend has an obsession with poptarts. Funny, he’s an english major, too.” Connor raised his brows in amusement, and Kevin slammed his head down onto the counter, chortling. 

“God, I’m so tired,” Kevin mumbled, just loud enough for Connor to hear. “My friend and I just got back from a Christmas party. I was the DD.”

“Yikes.” Connor turned to grab a menu. “I took my friend’s shift tonight, because he wanted to visit his sister in the hospital for Christmas. My family...” He trailed off. “...well.”

“No, I get it.” Kevin shrugged him off and took the menu. “I’m an ex-mormon. Came out as bi right after my mission and it all went to shit after that.” He was sharing so much tonight. God, was it the lack of coffee or did he just feel comfortable around Connor? Kevin couldn’t be sure anymore. “I’ll have a black coffee and covered hashbrowns to go for my friend.”

“You’re bi and an ex-mormon? What a coincidence!” Connor laughed heartily, and Kevin wondered how the man had such boundless energy. “I’m gay and ex-mormon, too. Funny how the world works sometimes, right?”

_ He’s gay, holy shit!  _ “Uh, yeah!” Kevin moved his hands to sit on them as Connor turned to begin making his order. “Funny, absolutely hilarious.” 

The pair lapsed into an awkward silence, and Kevin gazed around the room. Waffle House after midnight had a vibe to it, one he couldn’t quite describe in words. The humming of appliances filled in the quiet, and Kevin glanced over at the jukebox. The fact that Arnold and Naba were still in his car was aching at him, but he wanted nothing but to stay here and talk to Connor. They hadn’t talked long, yet there was something about him that was different from others. “So you’re in college?” Kevin asked Connor’s turned back as he fiddled with his wallet.

“Oh, yeah! I’m majoring in the performing arts,” he beamed at Kevin, whose face began to burn.  _ You bisexual disaster, you dumbass, stop blushing! _ “What about you?”

“I’m taking my MCAT soon. Majoring in nursing right now.” 

“Oh, that’s so cool! Med school’s hard, isn’t it?” Connor leaned against the counter, looking at Kevin out of the corner of his eye, and Kevin scoffed. 

“Well, it takes a lot of work, yeah.”  _ Are you going to flirt? Are you gonna do it?  _ “Nothing I can’t handle, of course.” Kevin winked, or at least tried to, and Connor laughed. The sound was heavenly, and Kevin wondered if he could play it like a record over and over in his head. 

“You’re cute,” Connor mumbled, and Kevin pretended not to have heard.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing!” Connor squawked, and Kevin grinned. God, what was with him? He hadn’t talked to someone like  _ this _ in forever- suddenly, he was  _ very _ glad he and Connor were alone in the restaurant. Meanwhile, Connor had gone a bright red, his cheeks burning. Kevin probably matched. His face was burning hot, and he struggled to hold back a smile as he stared pointedly away from Connor. “Here’s your coffee.” Connor slid the cup over, and Kevin smiled gratefully as he took a sip of the ambrosia-like liquid. He sighed, letting the drink flow down his throat. 

“Question-”

“Shoot,” Connor turned to begin the hashbrowns, and Kevin sat up straight. 

“How do you have so much energy?” Connor straightened up at this inquiry, and Kevin raised a brow. “It’s literally one in the morning. Either you’re nocturnal or-”

“-or I’m a financially struggling college student who spends his nights worrying over student debt.” Connor said, cocking his hip to one side. 

“Aren’t we all?” Kevin snarked and Connor scoffed.

“No, I’ve got a special trick I have during late shifts here when I’m all alone.” He smirked at Kevin out of the corner of his eye, cornering Kevin in his gaze like a lioness about to pounce at her prey. “Do you want me to show you?” 

_ AKSJDJDJDKJDSKDKDHSKS-  _ Kevin’s brain short circuited at the words, and he sat at the barstool, hands wrapped around his warm cup of coffee. Had it just gotten warmer? His face went bright red, and Connor’s eyes went wide as he realized the implications of his words. “Oh, God, nothing like that! I’m...” he stood still, wringing his hands. “No, I’m not that kind of person.”

Kevin licked his lips, seeing as they’d quickly become very,  _ very _ dry. “That’s good. I... uh. I wouldn’t mind you showing me.”

Connor’s eyes, somehow, went even wider, and he leaned in close enough for Kevin to see, in detail, the irises of his eyes, bluer than a clear summer sky. “You’re sure?” His voice was laced with excitement, and Kevin nodded, his shoulders tensing. What was he supposed to expect?

“Okay... but don’t laugh,” Connor said, moving out from behind the counter to the jukebox.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kevin turned in his seat, sipped his coffee curiously, and watched Connor as he pushed a few buttons on the jukebox and then on his phone. A speedy beat began, one Kevin barely recognized, and Connor turned to beam at him. The song began slowly, but in no time at all, layers of percussion were being added. Kevin tried to hold back a smile of recognition, but Connor caught him and wiggled his brows. 

_ Children, behave, that’s what they say when we’re together... _ Connor bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, grinning. Tiffany’s voice went on to sing her smooth lyrics, and Connor took Kevin’s hand, pulling him up from his seat.

“And so we’re running just as fast as we can,” Connor sang along, and Kevin’s jaw dropped. His voice was beautiful- the lyrics of the song fell from his mouth as easily as a fish went with water, and Kevin stared in awe as Connor spun on his feet.  _ Holding on to one another’s hand.  _ Kevin glanced down at their hands, Connor’s paler one grabbing his. He squeezed Connor’s hand, and Connor grinned. “Trying to get away into the night, but then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say-”

“I think we’re alone now,” Kevin continued for him, letting his voice melt alongside Connor’s. Connor’s eyes widened and his smile broadened when Kevin joined in, and God, he had just met this dumb fucking Waffle House worker, but he would already do anything to make him smile. Maybe this was more than true lust, but Kevin didn’t dare think about that. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”

“I think we’re alone now,” they sang together, both struggling to hide giggles in between notes. “The beating of our hearts is the only sound-”

The song fell into a short interlude of percussion, and Kevin said defiantly, “You know, I still don’t see how you get energy from this.”

Connor put a hand on his hip. “Oh, you wanna see energy, huh?” Kevin grinned and nodded, his heart beating furiously, and Connor began again, belting out the lyrics. “Look at the way we gotta hide what we’re doin’!” He leaned in closer to Kevin, swaying to the rhythm. “Cause what would they say?”

“If they ever knew,” Kevin added. “And so we’re-”

The boys continued singing and dancing around the restaurant, lyrics punctuated with giggles and snarky remarks at the other person, and Kevin hadn’t had conversation (was it conversation if you were flirting with a cute guy while badly dancing along to music from a Waffle House jukebox?) like this in ages. Finally, he felt like he was somewhere, like he could really let go, like he didn’t have to keep up some kind of appearance. He loved Arnold, really, but when he and Naba were together, it ached at him. Was it too much to ask to have a relationship like that?

_ Maybe not,  _ Kevin thought for the first time in a while, looking into Connor’s eyes. He huffed, shoulders heavy with the wear of dancing to Connor’s standards. “Okay... maybe I can see how you have all that energy,” he admitted. “Still doesn’t explain how you do all that at one in the morning, though.” He plopped back down onto the barstool, adjusting his jacket. 

“One thirty,” Connor corrected him. “We’ve been talking for longer than you thought. You’re a really good singer.”

“I’m nothing. Compared to you, at least,” Kevin’s eyes brightened, gesturing at Connor, who had moved behind the counter by now. He was finishing up the hashbrowns to-go, covering them with cheese as Kevin had inadvertently ordered. “You were belting those notes so well! You could be on Broadway!”

Connor ducked his head shyly. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” Kevin went quiet, leaning in and murmuring to Connor in a far more serious tone. “Really. You’re an amazing singer.”

Connor smiled, but behind his eyes lay a sadness that Kevin couldn’t interpret. “Thank you... oh my God.” He slapped his hands to his face, covering it in embarrassment. “I never asked your name. I just danced with you for three minutes and I never even asked for your name.”

“It’s Kevin,” Kevin sent Connor a toothy grin, leaning his head to one side on his hand. “Kevin Price.”

“Connor McKinley,” Connor placed the hashbrowns in front of him.

“I know,” Kevin gestured to Connor’s nametag, and Connor covered his face in his hands, blushing bright red.

“I literally just sang an entire song with you by my side! How is this more embarrassing than that?” Kevin laughed, already disappointed that his order was done. He wanted to talk to Connor for longer, to sit and talk, and get to know him however he could, but then he caught the hunched over figure of Arnold Cunningham puking in the parking lot. Connor winced.

“Sorry, that’s... my friend.” Kevin trailed off, flustered, but Connor waved it off.

“Don’t worry. I guess this means you’ll be leaving now...?” Was that a hint of sadness in Connor’s voice? Was he imagining it? 

“I guess so, yeah.” 

The boys lapsed into a more comfortable silence than before, though it still ached with what Kevin hoped was a mutual longing for more time together. "Oh!" Connor perked up, his blush from earlier rising back to his face. "Uh! Hold on!" He turned in his spot, and Kevin tilted his head to peer over Connor, who was obviously trying to hide whatever he was doing. Meanwhile, he tried to block the distant noise of Arnold's muffled retching from his ears, focusing only on Connor. It wasn't difficult to do, seeing as he had a  _ really  _ cute ass-

_ -no. Bad Kevin. Don't say that. He's pretty, but you don't know him well enough yet. He could be a serial killer and he's about to kill you right now.  _ Something told Kevin, however, that that was not the case and that he could safely sit and wait for Connor to finish whatever it was he needed to do. 

Suddenly, amidst Kevin's befuddled thoughts, Connor turned on his heel and delicately placed his Waffle House hat onto Kevin's head. "A parting gift," he said, one side of his mouth perking up in a little smirk. "Have a merry Christmas, Kevin." His name slid out from Connor's mouth like honey, and Kevin hid the shiver that went up his spine.

"Merry Christmas, Connor," Kevin replied, letting himself smile genuinely. He pulled a ten dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Connor, who looked like he was about to refuse it until Kevin added, "I know it's a lot more than my bill, but keep the change anyways." He coughed awkwardly into his hand, unsure if he should say what he was thinking about saying.  _ Fuck it.  _ "Anyways, maybe you can pay me back with a dinner sometime. Or something." Kevin's heart started pounding and he wrung his hands nervously. "If you want to, that is, if you’re interested. I'm not forcing you, you can-"

"Kevin," Connor interrupted him, tilting his head and chuckling. "I'd totally be interested." He scratched the back of his head, flattening down some of his hair. 

_ Holy shit! Holy shit, holy shit, holy-  _ “That’s... great!” Kevin could feel his mouth drying up as he clutched Connor’s cap to his chest and started to back up to the door. There was no way he was going to end this badly, not when they’d ended on such a good note! “I... I’ll see you later, then?”

As Kevin turned to grab the handle of the door, he looked back at Connor. “My regular shifts end weekdays at 5 p.m. Maybe we can meet up around then?” Connor tilted his head, looking a little bit like a hopeful puppy.

“I would love that,” Kevin replied breathlessly, and right on time, Arnold’s retching started up again outside, this time Naba yelling and freaking out alongside him. “I... really should get going now.”

Connor barked a laugh, and as Kevin turned to leave, he called playfully, “Have fun cleaning up those puke stains later!” Kevin laughed and stuck his tongue out at Connor as he left, heart still singing. As the frigid night air hit him like a truck, his heart kept him warm, thoughts of Connor still lingering in his mind. How was it that only half an hour of talking to (and dancing with) this man had led to his head being filled with blissful dreams of him? Kevin let out a sigh filled with mixed emotions- he couldn’t even tell how he was feeling. He decided to leave that burden to sitting-in-bed-at-three-am-Kevin instead and approached Arnold and Naba. Nabulungi began to yell at him, asking  _ why the hell did you stop for a coffee at this time of the night,  _ but Kevin simply let her words fly over him, choosing to let Connor linger in his mind for at least a few more seconds. 

Later, after about twenty minutes of flustered driving and Arnold puking out the window of his car, Kevin finally managed to drop Nabulungi and Arnold off at Naba’s apartment. It was now vacant of any lingering partygoers, and Kevin jokingly wished Arnold good luck before driving off, leaving the lovebirds alone. It wasn’t until he had reached his and Arnold’s apartment, changed out of his clothes, and was perched on the kitchen counter that he finally got a proper look at Connor’s cap.

Tucked into an elastic seam in the back was a yellow slip of paper, folded with a little heart scrawled on the top. Kevin, his hands shaking with anticipation, reached in and pulled it out. When he read the contents, neatly written in pink glitter pen, he beamed ear to ear, not even trying to hold it back. He rushed for his phone and jammed the string of numbers written on the slip into his contacts and without thinking, typed out a message.

_ To: Connor <3 _

_ > So, how about that dinner? _


End file.
